


weakness

by days4daisy



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Dubious Consent, Extra Treat, Guilt, M/M, Misunderstandings, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Rimming, Sex Pollen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-21
Updated: 2019-04-21
Packaged: 2020-01-07 05:41:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18404252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/days4daisy/pseuds/days4daisy
Summary: Thor has heard tales of afflictions like this. Flora buried deep in the remote wild with the power to render even the strongest of warriors mad. Remove all sense of dignity and honor. Cause the most able of beings to defile the ones they hold dear.





	weakness

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mimosa-supernova (FourCatProductions)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FourCatProductions/gifts).



Thor stops in his tracks. His single eye detects no activity, but this may prove to be a problem. The indigenous population is small on Tukda 4, supplemented by lawless types who use it for cover. It is a vegetative planet too, with a colorful litany of plant and animal life.

But there is no ruffle of wings among the leaves, nor smaller beings scuttling between tree trunks. It is as if their path has led them to a place too remote even for Tukda 4’s wildlife.

The quiet sets Thor on edge. Fists clenched, he scans their perimeter, but he sees nothing save row upon row of forest. “Be on alert,” he murmurs, resuming a slow pace.

Beside him, Rocket looks around with narrowed eyes. “Where’d everything go?” He swings his rifle from over his shoulder.

“I'm not sure” Thor says.

“This spot ain’t popular with the locals, I guess.” Rocket aims ahead, his tread soft. “We’re still,” he checks the nav display strapped to his wrist, “at least 10 k’s out. No way to cut around, right?”

Thor’s mouth tightens. “Not from the readouts. The path with least resistance is straight through. And over will create too much of a disturbance.”

“Cool.” Rocket glances upward. “Tree cover don’t cut the charge on your zappy-mojo, does it?”

The question turns Thor’s grimness to a grin. “Nope,” he answers.

“In that case,” Rocket cocks his rifle, “bring it on, grabsacks.”

***

The terrain does not grow more populated, but it does become more impressive. Its thickness forms a canopy over their heads. The forest floor falls to shadow as Thor and Rocket cross between trunks and fallen branches. The gentle trudge of their boots rustles through fallen leaves.

Thor detects no sign of disturbance, but unease tenses his shoulders. He cannot shake the nagging feeling of walking into a trap. It is the same anxious awe Thor experiences in the deepest brush of Vanaheim. Woodlands take on their own personality, warm and welcoming or ancient and foreboding. Thor has learned respect for places that sprouted and spread long before he was born.

A shivery sound draws Thor’s attention. A sneeze, he realizes, as Rocket scrubs his nose. “Are you alright?” Thor asks.

Rocket scowls. “Who knows what kinda junk’s down here? Crap nothing’s ever seen. Disgusting.”

His disdain earns a fond smile, but the expression is quick to fade. Rocket stops too. “What’s up?” he asks.

Between Thor's fingers, strings of energy crackle in anticipation. “Did you hear that?” he asks.

“Hear what?” Rocket tenses. “What is it?”

“I don’t know.” Thor turns around. He sees nothing, but - no, there _has_ to be something. Lightning skitters across Thor's fists.

“Talk to me, Thunder,” Rocket says. “What are you seeing? Come on.”

“Something's not right, it…”

The energy dries from Thor’s skin, but goosebumps remain puffed up on his arms like small blisters. A line of sweat slips down Thor's neck. Thor's face feels warm too - no, not just his face. Heat flares up Thor’s spine and scuttles down his legs. His pulse is firing too fast, like something has seized hold of his heart without permission.

Rocket's breaths carry a ragged husk, like he’s just come out victorious from a grueling battle. The sound draws a nervous twitch to Thor’s fingers. “Are you alright?” Thor asks.

“Yeah, I’m good.” Rocket gazes at Thor, eyes hot and clear of intent. “I’m real good right now.”

Thor has heard tales of afflictions like this. Flora buried deep in the remote wild with the power to render even the strongest of warriors mad. Remove all sense of dignity and honor. Cause the most able of beings to defile the ones they hold dear.

Warmth fixes to the small of Thor's back and spreads like the wind of a sweet embrace. It pools in his gut and curls teasing fingers between his thighs. Thor’s chest tightens, and his throat knots with desire. Thor's head is pounding, and his tongue tastes like sand. He wishes to be touched. He wishes _to_ touch.

“We need to get out of here,” Thor rasps.

He will not do this. Not to his closest companion in these dark days. Thor will never hurt Rocket. He will never debase him with something he has no desire for.

The very thought of having Rocket makes Thor grow heavy in his trousers. In difficult times, Rocket has stuck by Thor’s side. He has become a confidant who Thor trusts with his life. Rocket is also a brave warrior. A noble captain. Funny and wise, with a bewildering aptitude for the most complex mechanical quandaries.

Thor has depended on Rocket at his least stable. And he desires Rocket. His company. His touch. His body seated on Thor’s shoulder. The brush of his tail against the nape of Thor’s neck.

Thor will never hurt Rocket. Never.

“Can you run?” Thor asks. The thought of calling on Stormbreaker nearly buckles Thor's knees. His body wanes, startlingly weak. Thor cannot lift them above this brush, but if they run...perhaps…? “We can be rid of this place, but we must- Rabbit-”

“Holy shit, Thunder.” With dismay, Thor finds Rocket’s gaze fixed to the arousal in his trousers. “That all for me?” he asks. His eyes narrow with interest.

“We need to go.” Thor reaches out but hesitates, hand shaking. Were Thor to scoop Rocket up, he could get them away much faster, even in this drained state. But can he withstand touching Rocket? When his mind, his heart, his body want nothing more than to feel him?

“We need to stay,” Rocket counters. He takes a step forward, and Thor instinctively steps back. Rocket puts out placating hands like he is soothing a spooked animal. “Think about it. We’re not making any progress through these woods, and we’re not gonna with you looking like that. Shit, man. How are you even standing?”

Thor shakes his head. His mouth moves, but no words come out.

“I can help you,” Rocket croons. “I’ll make it all better, then we’ll be on our way. Cool?”

“You are not yourself,” Thor croaks. But he wants it. All-Fathers, he wants this so much. Rocket’s body is so slight, it would be easy to throw him down. Strip every last piece of his clothing, touch him and taste him in every way possible. It would be the most unthinkable violation, but Thor aches for it.

“You are not yourself,” Thor repeats, louder. “You do not want this, or me. It’s this vile affliction. It’s-”

“Shh, c’mon man.” Rocket sets a hand on Thor’s thigh. Desire carves through Thor like a butcher’s knife. “C’mon.” Rocket’s nail catches in Thor’s pants. Something shifts.

As if compelled by some larger force, Thor sinks to his knees. His trembling hands ball into fists against his legs. Blood runs hot through his veins, and every impulse in his body urges him forward.

But Thor cannot, he _will_ not. Rocket does not desire him in such a way. Not with their universe in ruins and their friends dead. It is Thor’s fault Rocket lost his beloved crew. Thor’s fault for not aiming for the head. It is kindness undeserved that Rocket offers friendship to Thor at all. But this... Rocket would never stand for this in his right mind.

Rocket grazes Thor’s cheek with a hand. “You’re warm,” he says, and he sounds happy about it. “Bet you smell as good as you feel.”

“Rabbit. I can’t, I’ll-”

“Hurt me?” Rocket’s eyes glint like dagger points. “Thought you knew me better than that, Thunder. You may be a god or whatever, but I don’t break easy.” He drags nails down Thor’s neck. Thor feels as though his insides are being clawed out. His idle hands quiver in agony.

Rocket leans up on his tiptoes and nuzzles Thor’s ear. “You gonna fuck me or what?” he purrs.

The final shred of Thor's restraint is flayed like a prized game before a feast.

Thor grabs Rocket's shoulders and pins him to the forest floor. With one hand, he tears Rocket’s jumpsuit from his body. Shreds of fabric sift between fallen leaves. Rocket is bared to him, an expanse of fur with crude metal screws twisted into his collar. A scarred belly and little cock. The organ is no larger than Thor’s pinkie, lifted proudly in arousal. It is startlingly moist too, dribbling precum though yet untouched. Creatures like Rocket have been rare in Thor’s travels. His size, softness, and the cruel signs of his mistreatment are foreign, beautiful. Thor’s lips pop open.

“You the God of Staring now?” Rocket barks. “Only got one eyeball, but you’ll use that over two hands? Think you can-”

His voice chokes off when Thor ducks his face against his throat. He nuzzles Rocket and breathes deeply of his scent. Rocket’s arousal is its own drug. Rocket like this alone would be enough to steal Thor’s sense.

Thor indulges in the tickle of Rocket’s fur against his lips and dips his tongue to draw a wet line into his neck. Rocket thrashes under him. “Thor, you asshole. Get on with it!”

“You are too tiny, my friend.” Thor regrets the words as soon as they leave him. There is nothing he would love more than to feel the stretch of Rocket’s meager hole around his fingers. To test Rocket's body, to master it, and feel the intense pull of it around his cock.

But no, even through the haze of this awful affliction, Thor will not bring Rocket more pain. Not even as Rocket writhes and hurls an impressive array of curses at him.

Thor answers Rocket’s anger with a kiss to his snarling mouth. “Don't worry,” Thor says. “You will be well-sated, Rabbit. Nine,” the word falls from Thor’s lips in a daze. “You are beyond every desire I’ve held for you.” Guilt returns, like his heart yanked still beating from his chest.

But it’s too late. Thor is beyond reason as he slides down Rocket’s wriggling body. He rubs his face in Rocket’s belly and licks the metal twisted into his body. Thor kisses the dull, furless scars and exhales a wonder-filled breath down Rocket’s cock.

“Thor,” Rocket hisses, “goddamnit.”

The sound that wrenches from Rocket when Thor descends is like the croak of an injured warrior. Shame and illness churn in Thor’s belly. His hands shiver on Rocket’s sides; how dare he do this, how dare he be too weak to stop himself. But Thor still noses Rocket’s tail to the side. He blows a gentle breath against Rocket’s puckered hole. It is clenched, knotted pink.

Thor’s lips merely brush the tense crown, but Rocket howls as if he’s coming undone. Rough, angry fingers rip into Thor’s hair. His grip is hard enough for even Thor to feel, pain that makes his mouth more eager. His lips fix to Rocket’s hole, and his tongue teases out. Slowly, he circles, tasting, testing. Rocket’s whole body shudders. Restless heels kick at Thor’s shoulders. “You fucking jerk,” Rocket moans. He gives Thor’s hair a hard tug.

Thor’s gentle licks give way, a laxing of tension and the faintest relent of Rocket’s body. The tip of Thor's tongue delves in, clenched by muscle as Rocket squirms and curses.

With trembling fingers, Thor undoes the front of his own pants. He groans against Rocket when he touches himself. Between his fingers, Thor feels the pulse of his own desire. Under his skin, Thor is somehow aware of his own life force. The hot rush of his blood, the deafening pound of his heartbeat. He feels tied to Rocket - the tickle of fur against his lips, the eager swat of his tail between Thor’s shoulders.

“Thor, damn it- Thor, _Thor, fuck_!” Rocket’s voice goes up in octave when Thor pinches the tip of his cock. Thor's fingers come away wet with precum.

Rocket’s body shoots off the forest floor. He shouts and wriggles, grinding down on Thor’s lips. His fur tickles Thor’s nose and rubs sweetly against his mouth. The swish of Rocket’s tail becomes more urgent, as do the violent fists yanking at Thor’s hair.

Thor wants this to be over, and he never wants it to end. Will one orgasm for his friend be enough, he wonders. Will that be what it takes to cure this malady and remind Rocket of his common sense? Thor wants to hold him forever, to know every inch of his body as intimately as Thor has come to know his person.

Thor’s heart aches in his chest. It needs to be over for Rocket’s sake. Thor will make this as right as he can, and then they will go back to how they were. If the fates are kind, Rocket will not remember a moment.

Thor fixes his lips and presses his tongue deep. Rocket’s body, tight though it is, opens for him like a swinging door. His tension gives way to a warm embrace, spasming tightness coiled around Thor’s tongue. Rocket’s feet kick out. Thor gathers moisture on his own shaft. A shiver winds through his waist and continues like a chill up his spine.

A second thrust, and Rocket’s body becomes a tangle of spasms. New wetness gushes from Rocket's cock. Thor feels it dribble across his fingers and mat into Rocket’s fur. His body twists like a wet cloth, and his hole flutters against Thor’s lips. Thor tongues Rocket through it, coaxes him with gentle prods. Rocket whimpers and leaves bloody scratches on Thor’s hairline.

Thor’s name in Rocket’s strained voice makes Thor’s world tilt. He is so aroused, touching himself hurts. Thor's heart is beating too fast. He’s burning up. Thor feels hot, then cold, revived, then weak as an ill child.

“Thor?” There is a different tone in Rocket’s voice. “Hey- hey, hey, c’mon, you’ve gotta- I think you've gotta finish- Thor?”

Rocket sounds more like himself. Thor did not hurt him too badly then. Good. Hopefully Rocket will forgive Thor one day. Thor will make amends for this violation. Whatever it takes.

“Thor, you gotta- I think you gotta keep going, you gotta- Thor, don’t you dare. Don’t- Thor?”

Rocket never has to know the shame of Thor's heart. Thor’s sweet rabbit. He never has to know.

***

Thor wakes on a violent strain of coughs. He comes to lying on the ground, Stormbreaker at his side.

Something cold and damp lands in Thor’s lap. Thor jumps when it lands on thighs stripped naked. His trousers, it turns out, are around his knees. His cock, soft, nestles against his thigh. Thor feels a strange ache, sore but pleasant. His breaths come out as shivering sighs.

“At least I didn't shred your whole damn outfit.”

Thor finds Rocket keeping watch on a nearby stump. Despite the complaint, Rocket seems to have made out alright. He’s put on a spare flight suit, buttoned all the way up. Arms crossed, he looks at Thor.

Shame heats Thor’s face. “Forgive me,” he says. “Did I hurt you?”

“Think you did everything but hurt me.” A glance finds Rocket smirking. He shakes his head. “Sure did a number on yourself though. I, uh, had to finish what you started best I could. You were pretty out of it.”

It is as Thor feared. As if it was not bad enough to put Rocket through this ordeal, Rocket had to continue on for Thor's benefit. Thor nods, but he cannot meet Rocket’s eyes. “Thank you,” he says. “You did not have to-”

“Yeah, I did,” Rocket says, eyes narrowed.

“Yes, but I wish you did not-”

“I don’t give a fuck what you wish.” Rocket’s impatient foot taps the stump. “You helped me, I helped you. End of story.”

Shameful though the reality is, it is a fitting summary of events with a lovely bow of an ending. Thor assisted Rocket, Rocket assisted Thor. The incident is over and they will never speak of it again. Thor musters a smile as he uses a nearby tree to stand. “In that case, I’m relieved you're alright.”

Upright, Thor feels unsteady. The desperate gush of need is gone, but the weakness of his body remains. He is able to hoist Stormbreaker, but the ax feels heavier than usual. A temporary side effect, Thor is sure. His strength will return as they distance themselves from this cursed place.

Rocket watches Thor’s progress warily. “You ok there?” he asks.

“Yes,” Thor assures him. “I'd rather not spend more time here than necessary.”

“Yeah well,” Rocket frowns but hops off the stump. “If our nav system’s right, there should be fresh water up a few clicks north.”

To clean themselves. And wash this terrible event away for good. Thor nods, though his chest seizes tight as a fist. “Wonderful,” he says, and hopes his smile will shine true. “Lead on, my friend.”

By the time they reach the spring, Thor finds himself parched and welcoming of the reprieve. Its water is a magnificent blue, glittering in a patch of sunlight from a break in the canopy. Thor waits to see where Rocket will settle before continuing upstream. No doubt, his friend will want to be alone. Thor cannot take back his wrongdoings, but he can treat the matter with as much respect as possible.

Rocket's hail puts an end to this line of thought. “Where are you going?” he asks.

“I...thought you would want privacy,” Thor says. “I'll just be on the other side of the bend.”

“I don’t need privacy,” Rocket says, frowning. “You need privacy?”

Thor struggles to maintain his smile. “I thought,” he says, “after…”

Rocket does not seem to follow. “After?” he echoes when Thor does not complete the sentence himself. Thor frowns when Rocket props annoyed hands on his sides. Those same sides that were so soft under Thor’s combing fingers. It should please Thor to think that this event will not be a source of anger or mistrust between them. Rocket seems eager to put the matter behind them.

Still, Thor aches like an open wound. “Nothing,” Thor says. His laugh comes out more strained than intended. “It’s nothing. My head is still light.” He places Stormbreaker on the ground. Eye contact broken, he removes his shirt and kneels before the stream.

Thor splashes his face and chest. The water is sweet and cool sliding down a body still overcome by events it does not understand.

Thor pointedly does not look when he hears the gentle splash of Rocket’s own cleaning. Ridding his body of what Thor did to him. Thor’s hands tremble as he splashes his face again.

“When you said I was beyond every desire you had for me, was that the stupid plant talking? Or you?”

Thor stares at Rocket in surprise. Rocket is looking at him seriously, spring water soaking his face. He’s undone his flight suit to the waist. The screws in his collar are exposed, as are the awful yet beautiful scars on his belly.

Every hope of lying dies on Thor’s lips. “You are my friend, Rabbit,” Thor says. “I will proudly fight by your side no matter what we face.”

Rocket frowns. “That’s got nothing to do with what I asked you.”

“It has everything to do with what you've asked me.” A note of defiance enters Thor’s voice. “You are my companion. Anything beyond that is inconsequential.”

“ _Inconsequential_?”

“I will not lose you.” Thor rises to his feet. Spring water drips down his chest and soaks into his slacks. “I will not lose you," he repeats, "and you will not lose me. We have lost too many friends to my weakness and arrogance. You are my friend. Nothing else matters.”

His anger, strangely, does not seem to irk Rocket. After a moment, Rocket’s expression softens. “Oh,” he says. His shoulders sink, and his ears bob quietly back.

Stomach rolling, Thor holds his hand for Stormbreaker, and the weapon leaps upward. Thor continues up the bank, around the bend to a rock large enough to bear him when he sits. Spring water sits in small droplets across his shoulders and chest. His hair is wet, a few lines of dampness sliding down his face.

Thor thinks of the remaining distance to cross to complete their mission. The threat of more dangers along the way. The sound of the brook swaying down its course. The sight of Nidavellir-forged fingers coming together in a snap. The bodies of friends turning to ash at his feet. Tree, his young friend who bravely forged the handle of Stormbreaker. Lost to Rocket’s outstretched arms.

Now Rocket too, lost to the selfishness of Thor’s heart. Always the sentimental fool - Thor did much to appear otherwise, but Loki knew him best in this regard. Before Loki, too, lost his life mere steps from Thor.

“We should get goin’.” Thor nods at Rocket’s beckon and stands to join him.

Together, they march on, dead leaves crunching beneath their feet. The day is beginning to wane. A greater shadow falls over the wood as the canopy loses its sun cover. They are close though. Close enough to make a decent camp by nightfall.

“You dumbass,” Rocket says from Thor’s side.

Thor nods in agreement. It’s true, he has been a fool. A self-serving, reckless fool. “I hope one day you will forgive me-”

“This whole time. Are you kidding me?”

“Rabbit.” Thor sighs and steels himself, though he does not manage eye contact. In this, he is still a coward. “I’ve wronged you, but I will make it right. I swear it. If it pains you, we will never speak of this again. You have my word.”

“I mean, we could have been fucking _this whole time_? Damn it, Thor.”

“What?” Thor stops in his tracks. The question comes out barely formed, a ghost of a word as the stares down at Rocket.

Rocket looks right back at him, head cocked. “I assumed a thing like you wouldn’t be caught dead with a thing like me. Fancy thunder god-king and all.”

Thor's grip around Stormbreaker's handle tightens. “Please,” he says, more desperately than he wants. “We can jest about this one day, my friend. I promise. But I can’t. Not yet, I-”

“Holy shit.” A new look comes over Rocket’s face. Something softer, slack with surprise. “You… Holy shit.”

Thor struggles to find words to answer through the pain in his chest an the sorrow weighing on his back. Before he can, Rocket scales Thor's body to sit on his shoulder. Stormbreaker slips from Thor’s grasp and lands with a dull thud on a bed of leaves. “What?” Thor says again.

He’s answered by the swish of Rocket’s tail across his neck. The touch, always pleasant, lands true with Thor’s defenses lowered. The sigh is off his lips before he an stifle it. Rocket’s voice rumbles in Thor’s ear. “You know how long I’ve been wanting you, idiot?” Their cheeks touch. Thor’s breath catches in his throat. “You got any idea how hard it’s been to keep my hands off you?”

“If this is a trick-”

“Why the hell would it be a trick?” Rocket demands, incredulous. He draws fingers down Thor’s face. Thor blows out a breath. At his sides, his fingers clench into white-knuckled fists. “Fine,” Rocket says, “I get the friend stuff, and the ‘fight side by side’ stuff. But if I can get all that and more of you too? I mean, what moron would turn that down?”

Thor chuckles despite himself. A small part of him worries - could this be an after-effect of the plant’s madness? Some final touch that Rocket has yet to pull through? But this feels different somehow. The manic need is gone from Rocket’s eyes. What Thor finds in them is real - dark, close, and beautifully curious.

Thor lifts a hand to scale Rocket’s back. His tail twitches appreciation against Thor’s arm. A shiver eases through Thor’s shoulders. “If you’d like more of me, we can arrange that,” he says.

Thor isn’t prepared for Rocket’s teeth scaling his ear. A hiss whistles between his teeth. “We’ve gotta make camp soon,” Rocket says. “Just saying.”

“Yes, we- _yes_.” This, to Rocket’s tongue soothing the sting left behind by his teeth. “We do,” Thor agrees, a firm hand raked down Rocket’s back. “Very soon.”

“Mmhm.” Rocket nuzzles Thor’s hair, rubs his snout against the side of his face and takes a deep breath. “Idiot,” he says, full of affection.

Thor’s answering laugh is bewildered but true.

*The End*


End file.
